The Meaning of Family
by thisislandgirl
Summary: This year would be his first real Thanksgiving complete with turkey and all the trimmings. More importantly though, he was spending the day with the family he chose, that chose him. Today he would spend the day surrounded by people who truly cared about him.


For Kris for the SEAL Team Secret Santa 2019!

The prompt was "Bravo team bonding, including bravo jr, Adam and Brian. With Ash interrupting and being mad that Clay has found another family. Someone tells Ash to get lost or they will help him get lost".

I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Clay is reaching for his keys when his phone chimes in his pocket. He sighs and switches tactics, trying to juggle the bag and case of beer in his arms while fishing his phone out of his pocket. It takes some maneuvering, and almost dropping everything, before he gets the device free. Text message from Sonny. He doesn't have to open it to know what he's asking about.

"Yeah, Sonny," Clay mumbles to himself, locking his door. "I'm stopping for whipped cream."

Sonny's been blowing up his phone since last night when it was discovered no one purchased any whipped cream for the pies. Somehow it became Clay's duty to acquire it on his way to dinner today. And despite several reassurances last night, and again this morning, it appears Sonny still doesn't trust him with such a simple task. He'd be annoyed at the thought, except Sonny's devastation of the missing ingredient was just too amusing.

"Hey, son."

The voice startles Clay out of his amusement. He snaps his head up to see Ash standing there in the hallway, hands casually tucked into his pockets, smile on his face as he regards Clay. Just the sight of him turns Clay's previously chipper mood sour. This had the promisings of a great day when it started, his first real Thanksgiving dinner in ... well it's been a while.

"What are you doing here, Ash?" Clay manages to ask, kicking himself for staring dumbly at his father. "Haven't seen you in a while."

Anyone else would've had the good grace to look ashamed, but not the great Ash Spenser. No, the words bounce right off him, no impact made. He gives a small shrug like it's of no consequence.

"I came to have a drink with my son," Ash says instead, eyeing the bags in Clay's arms. "But it looks like you already have plans."

"I do," Clay confirms. "Team dinner."

"Blow 'em off," Ash counters. "It's Thanksgiving! You should be spending the day with family."

Clay has to bite down hard on any retort that wants to spring free of his mouth. What would Ash know of family? These last few months without Ash have done him good. When he realized what the radio silence from the other man meant, he was finally able to let go. Ash was never going to be the father Clay so desperately wanted him to be. He was just a means to an end for the man and that was it. It had been devastating at first, but that lesson Adam had tried to drill in to him so long ago finally clicked.

Team is the only family he needs.

"I am spending the day with my family," Clay states evenly.

That one makes an impact, words ramming into Ash's armor and digging in. Clay catches the slight flinch on Ash's face, the was his eyes squint a little deeper in anger as he regards Clay. Ash takes a short, sharp breath in, releasing it in a snort.

"That one come from Seaver?" Ash asks, tone jovial, but Clay can detect the bite behind the words. Ash likes to play dirty, but Clay refuses to roll in the mud with him. He will be civil towards his father.

Ash opens his mouth, another retort locked and loaded when Clay shuts him down. "Like I said, I've got plans. Sorry."

"Right. Shoulda called," Ash states, holding his hands up in submission. "Maybe later?"

Clay gives the smallest inch, knowing that Ash won't stop pushing until he gets what he wants. "Yeah. Maybe later."

Ash gives him one last look before he shakes his head and saunters back down the hall. "Happy Thanksgiving, Clay."

* * *

Despite blowing Ash off, Clay can't quite regain his previous excitement. Loading the bags in his car, Clay slides in behind the driver's seat and slams the door with more force than necessary. He hates that Ash has this power over him, how just the sight of him sets Clay's teeth on edge. Just a few minutes with the man and Clay's blood is boiling. After everything is said and done, Ash is still his father, and a part of Clay will always love him even as he resents him.

Pulling up to the park, Clay eases his car in to a spot near the edge of the grass. He doesn't get out though, not just yet. In front of him, he can see the rest of the team arriving and getting set up. Sonny, Trent, and Jason are hovering near the grill, hands busy with getting the fire going. Naima and Alana are unpacking side dishes, both laughing and smiling. And racing through it all is Jameelah, football in hands as Mikey and RJ chase her around. As he watches, Adam arrives bearing an armload of dishes. His wife is only a few steps behind him with Brock in tow, helping him manhandle Cerb and his own haul of food. Their arrival means a new racing partner for the kids. Clay watches in amusement as they all wait anxiously for Brock to unclip the leash and then they are off again, dog loping alongside them this time.

Watching their laughter makes Clay feel out of place. He feels like a dark cloud about to blot out their sun and that's the last thing he wants to do. All week long, Clay had been looking forward to this, so much so that he'd actually hoped they wouldn't get spun up because he didn't want to miss it. He hasn't had a real Thanksgiving dinner in ... well he can't ever remembering having one. He assumes he had one when he was little, but he can't remember it. His grandparents had their version of Thanksgiving, but it wasn't the same. When he came back, he was either alone for the holidays, or was deployed in some godforsaken part of the Earth.

No, this year would be his first real Thanksgiving complete with turkey and all the trimmings. More importantly though, he was spending the day with the family he chose, that chose him. Today he would spend the day surrounded by people who truly cared about him.

A knock on the window startles him out of his reverie. Clay glances over to see Brian's goofy smile beaming at him through the passenger side glass. When Clay doesn't move right away, the grin fades from Brian's face, replaced by confusion. Brian opens the door and pokes his head inside the car.

"You gonna sit here all day or you gonna eventually join us?" Brian asks.

Taking a quick breath, Clay nods and opens his door. He refuses to let Ash ruin yet another thing in his life. Up until the man had shown his face, Clay had really been looking forward to this day. He is determined to have a good time with his team. With that, Clay pushes the last thoughts of his father out his mind.

"You good?" Brian asks, sauntering up to his side.

"Yeah, I'm good," Clay tells him, handing him a bag. "Make yourself useful."

Brian scoffs, arms already full with his own bag, but makes room in his arms for Clay's bag with only the minimum of fuss. Clay hauls the case of beer out of the trunk. Together, they make their way down the path towards where Bravo Team has taken over several picnic tables. Their arrival is heralded by a chorus of little voices calling their names and a bark as the racing pack zips through again.

"Bout time you showed up, Goldilocks," Sonny greets, tilting a beer in his direction. "Thinking you got lost in the store or sumthin'."

At the mention of the store, Clay's smile falls. He forgot the whipped cream. After all of Sonny's pestering, he forgot it anyway. He'd been so distracted by Ash and his surprise drop by that it had completely escaped his mind.

"Don't tell me ya forgot," Sonny grumbles, eyeing him seriously. "Can't have pie without whipped cream."

"Yeah, about that," Clay starts, preparing for the abuse they'll put him through, when Brian saves him.

"It's right here," Brian pulls can after can of whipped cream out of his bag until there are eight of them lined up on the table like soldiers ready for battle.

Sonny squints suspiciously at Brian before he nods in approval. "New guy to the rescue. 'Bout damn time you carry your weight 'round here."

Clay glances over at Brian, catching his smirk before he's turning away, already offering to help Naima and Alana get everything set up. Clay breaths a small sigh of relief and takes the beer offered by Jason, following him towards the grill. He's taking a pull from the bottle when Jason eyes him up and down critically. He doesn't say anything, but his eyes ask the question loud and clear. Is he okay?

Clay nods. Yeah, he's good.

He's on his second beer, relaxing on a bench and watching Brock and Trent argue over the correct way to baste the turkey. Over the tables, Naima and Alana have their hands full shooing both the kids and Sonny away from the food. When their backs are turned, Sonny keeps sneaking tastes of everything. Jason wanders in Clay's direction, football in hand. He lobs the ball softly at Clay's chest, watching in amusement as he bobbles the catch, but manages to hold on to it one-handed, drink still clutched in the other.

"Up for a game?" Jason questions.

"Sure," Clay nods, tossing the ball back, warmth exploding in his chest at the idea.

"Great, gather the kids. We'll keep 'em busy until the turkey's done," Jason tells him.

Clay's not sure exactly who they're supposed to be distracting, the kids from racing around the food or Sonny from picking at it every chance he gets. Either way though, he's excited at the idea.

"Young bucks versus adults," Sonny declares when Jason tosses the ball at him.

"That's not fair for the kids," Clay starts until he sees the amused grin on Sonny's face. "Wait-"

"Kids includes you," Trent smirks. "And Armstrong too."

Mikey and Jameelah cheer in excitement. Clay just nods, giving them both a high five. On the sidelines, Emma and Hanna watch the game, their offer of being referees accepted.

They quickly settle on rule, two hand touch because of the kids, but it ends up being more like two hand shove for the Bravo guys. Anytime Clay has the ball in his hands, he finds Sonny barreling towards him like a linebacker. It only takes one "accidental" tackle from the Texan for Clay to learn to hand the ball off to Jameelah or Mikey pretty quickly. Jameelah races with the football in her hands, squealing as she goes. Ray lets her get by him, feigning a stumble, before he reaches out and tags her down. Mikey though, is a natural athlete and a few times he manages to slip by Jason or Brock untouched. His exuberance is infectious.

Clay's not sure which he has more fun with, watching the kids play, or actually playing against his brothers. Quite a few times Adam's tried to get by him and each time Clay gets his hands on him in the knick of time. Jason has nothing but open field in front of him, ready to score again, when Clay comes flying out of no where, diving hands first for him. He knocks the ball loose from Jason's hands and they both fall to the ground after it. Clay comes up covered in dirt and grass stains, but with the ball securely in his arms. Jason gives his shoulder a knock, an approving look in his eyes, before he walks off, back to their huddle.

"Okay, Jameelah, you ready? It's your play," Clay tells her when they duck into their own huddle. If they were keeping score, he's sure they'd be losing by a few touchdowns by now, but it's more a pride thing at this point. They have to score off Jason's fumble just for bragging rights.

"Ready!" Jameelah exclaims, standing up taller and puffing her chest out.

"We're gonna block you. You just gotta run," Brian tells her, patting her on the head. "You got it?"

She nods, a serious expression her face. "They won't get me."

Clay hikes the ball and immediately hands it off to Jameelah. She chirps in excitement as she starts running as fast as her little legs can carry her, but it's not fast enough to outrun the full grown men heading for her. Clay rushes up behind her and scoops her up under the arms, running with her tucked to his side.

He can hear a chorus of groans and boos around him, but doesn't hesitate as he slips by them easily. Then it's just Brock keeping them from the end zone. When Brock rushes forwards, ready to tag them, Clay spins away from him, ducking down to drop Jameelah back to her feet.

"Run Jams. Run," Clay calls out just as Brock tags him.

Brock spins, reaching for Jameelah, but she's already out of his reach, little feet carrying her into the end zone.

Clay throws his hands up in victory. "Touch down!"

He races up to Jameelah, scooping her up and hoisting her high over his head. She shrieks in excitement. When he lowers her to the ground, Clay shows her how to spike the ball. Mikey and Brian join them both in the end zone for high fives and cheers while Jason groans. Clay looks up from Jameelah, ready to tease Jason about handing them them the touchdown, when something over Jason's shoulder catches his attention. Or rather someone.

Yards away in the parking lot, leaning against the hood of his car, is Ash. The glee he was feeling only seconds before disappears as it feels like a lead weight drops in his stomach. He takes in a sharp breath, tension coiling his muscles tight as his mind races. What was he doing here? How did he even know where to find them?

"Clay?"

The unsure note in Brian's voice manages to draw Clay's attention for a moment. Long enough for him to realize that everyone has picked up on his sudden mood change. Adam and Jason are both giving him that calculating look while Brian, the only one able to see what has caught Clay's attention, looks worried. His first instinct is to pull away, to shut down all his emotions and back out of the gathering before he can ruin everyone's day. He stands his ground though, taking a moment to let the initial feeling pass before he acts. Since day one, Bravo has been reinforcing the notion into him that he's not alone, that he has a family, a pack of wolves at his back ready to defend him against anything. He will not backslide because his father decided to pop up in his life once again.

He's not about to let Ash ruin an otherwise perfect day by causing a scene either though. Taking a deep breath, Clay starts to break away from the group, heading for the parking lot. His move draws everyone's gaze toward his intended target. Before he can get a few feet from them, a hand is reaching out to stop him. Adam opens his mouth to talk him down, when Clay shakes his head.

"I'll take care of it," Clay offers quietly before walking away.

As he passes the picnic tables, Naima gives him a sympathetic smile. There are no secrets in the Bravo family, she knows as much as Ray does about his life and rocky relationship with his father. Her quiet support bolsters him as he makes his way to the parking lot.

"Nice move, using the kid to score," Ash offers by way of greeting. There's a smile on his face, but there's a look in his eyes that raises Clay's hackles. He chooses to ignore the comment, not letting his father goad him into an argument.

"What are you doing here?" Clay asks, fighting to keep his tone even.

Ash feigns a confused look for a moment before he chuckles. "Sorry, having deja vu. I swear we already had this conversation."

"We did," Clay grinds out, frustration slowly building in his chest. "And I told you we'd talk later."

"You weren't answering your phone. Figured I'd swing by," Ash offers casually.

"How'd you even know where to find me?"

At that Ash chuckles and waves a hand in front of his face like he's shooing away a fly. "Told you, I keep tabs on you."

The words sound more like a threat than a reassurance. Clay feels the anger burning in his chest slowly morphing into something else entirely. He fights to keep his roiling emotions out of his voice, not willing to give his father another weapon to wield against him.

"Like I said," he states firmly, "I have plans today. We'll have to do this another day."

"Right," Ash draws sarcastically. "You're spending the day with your _family_."

Clay flinches at that. The way Ash twists the word around makes it sound like something vile, like the word is poison on his tongue. Clay clenches his hands into fists as that tone rings in his head, echoes from another time in his life when he was smaller, weaker, unable to defend himself. He's not that anymore.

"Yeah, family," Clay bites out, civility forgotten. "I'm sure it's a foreign concept to you because anyone not helping you further your career is just an anchor weighing you down. But my team? We support each other, through everything."

"I did my best for you, Clay," Ash states, a note of sadness in his voice. "I'm just sorry it wasn't good enough for you."

"You never tried!" Clay seethes, words hissing out between his clenched teeth. He charges a step forward, hands itching to grab onto Ash and shake him. He pulls himself up short, balling his fists up at his sides so tight his nails dig crescents into his palms. "You didn't have to be the best father in the world. All you had to do was be there and you couldn't even manage that!"

"It was my job, Clay," Ash states with a sigh, like he's arguing with a two year old. "I thought you'd finally understand. But I guess I'll always be the bad guy to you."

"I just wanted you to love me!" Clay cries out, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "But the only thing you've ever loved is your own reflection."

"How dare you!" Ash roars, mouth opening for another attack when another voice shuts him down.

"Enough!"

The voice snaps Clay to attention and brings him back to Earth. A hand settles on his shoulder and he glances over to see Adam standing there, a neutral expression on his face.

"Well if it isn't Seaver to the rescue," Ash's voice comes out in a snarl. "Still fighting the kid's battles for him?"

"He said enough," Jason barks.

It isn't until then that Clay realizes it's more than Adam flanking him. He glances over to see Jason standing next to Adam, face pinched in anger as he stands with his arms crossed. On his left side, Brian is standing just behind his shoulder, close enough for Clay to feel his presence, but not overcrowding. It's Brian's specialty. Next to him, Sonny is perched looking like he's ready for a fight, no attempt at hiding the hatred written all over his face.

Ash throws up his hands in submission. "Sorry guys, just trying to have a conversation with my son."

"Yeah well the kid don't wanna talk with you so I suggest you leave," Sonny growls.

Ash glowers. "It's a private conversation that I'd like to finish."

"Not private when everyone can hear it," Jason retorts, tone all but goading Ash into a fight.

"Yeah well, the kid gets loud when he gets defensive."

Clay takes a step forward but a tug on his shirt keeps him in place. Adam shifts slightly, putting his body in front of Clay's just the slightest. Whether its to protect Clay or keep him in place, Clay isn't sure. Either way, he appreciates the move. With his team at his back, Clay can feel his heart slowing its thundering gallop in his chest. There's anger still burning in his gut, churning with something else he can't put a name on, but it's slowly ebbing away in the presence of his family.

"Like Sonny said," Adam states, voice hard as steel. "Conversation's over. Leave."

Anger flashes in Ash's eyes, all of it directed right at Clay. For an instant, Clay's not sure what he's going to do. Ash has a powder keg of anger inside of him and a short fuse. He's capable of a great many things if he feels wronged. Clay might've lit the match, but Bravo interrupting them had lit the fuse. Clay's tensing up, ready for whatever hell is about to be unleashed on them, when Jason takes a threatening step forward.

"I said leave, before we make you leave."

An uneasy stillness fall over the group, tension thrumming as they wait for the next move. Finally, Ash scoffs and throws his hands in the air, a sign of giving in. There's still fire burning in his eyes when he stares Clay down.

"Fine, I'll leave. But know this," Ash hisses, leaning forward to press his point home. "_They_ aren't your family. _They _will leave you when you need them the most. And this time you will be alone. I won't be there to pick you back up."

Adam, Sonny, and Jason move forward as one, closing in on Clay like a formidable wall, shutting him off from Ash. It doesn't matter though, Ash's face twisted in anger is burned into his mind as his words ring in his head. A hand settles between his shoulder blades, a comforting weight grounding him. Clay doesn't have to look to know it's Brian.

In front of him, Ash finally stalks off. Clay catches a glimpse of him sliding into his car and tearing out of the parking lot in a squeal of tires. It's only once he's gone that the tension finally bleeds out of everyone. Jason and Adam turn to look at him, twin looks of calculating concern on their faces. As much as their presence was comforting, the scrutiny feels suffocating. He needs a moment to lick his wounds and pack away his emotions that are threatening to spin out of control.

He steps away, but Adam's voice halts him in his tracks.

"Clay."

Slowly, he turns back to look at the man who has been more of a father figure to him than his own blood. There's an earnest look on Adam's face, like his heart is breaking in his chest as he regards Clay.

"He's talking about his own life," Adam tells him. "That's not your story. You aren't your father. Never will be."

Clay swallows thickly and nods, stepping away from them. Back at the picnic tables, he catches sight of everyone else casting glances in their direction. The kids are still racing around, but there's a much more subdued air over their gathering than before. Clay can't help but feel it's all because of him. He knew from the moment Ash popped back up today that he would end up ruining their day and he feels awful for it.

Leaning against the side of his car, he watches as Sonny and Brian slowly make their way back to the tables, followed by a reluctant looking Jason and Adam. He should just leave, Clay thinks. Let them enjoy the rest of their afternoon in peace without his dour mood to bring them all down.

A scuff of gravel draws his gaze up to see Naima walking towards him. He was too wrapped up in this thoughts to notice her approaching. She walks up and stands in front of him, her gaze softening the longer she looks at him. Without a word, she steps forward and pulls him down into a hug. It takes him by surprise, but after a moment's hesitation, he brings his arms up and hugs her back. His heart feels like it's going to explode in his chest as she squeezes him just a little tighter. Something inside him snaps and he relaxes into the embrace. For an instant, he feels so warm and loved and safe, the only kind of safe you can get from being wrapped up in your mother's arms. It brings tears to his eyes as he squeezes her back.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," she murmurs into his shoulder, holding on to him like she's afraid someone will rip him from her grip.

Slowly, Clay pulls back, hands coming up to scrub away the tears from his eyes. Naima doesn't break contact all the way, though; she keeps her hand on Clay's arm, a quiet reassurance that she is still there with him. After a moment, Clay finally drags his gaze up to meet hers. Any trace of embarrassment fades away when he sees that look in her eyes, a look that speaks of love and pride.

"I am sorry, Clay," she repeats, a sad smile on her face. "I'm sorry that your father will never be want you want him to be. He's an asshole and a complete idiot for missing out on having a son like you."

Despite the pain still constricting his chest, Clay manages a half chuckle, half sob at her words. There's a fierceness he can see in Naima's eyes that reminds him of a mother lion guarding her cubs. No one is getting passed her, no one is going to hurt her babies while she's around. To see that look on her face when she thinks of him takes his breath away.

"No matter what he says, we are your family. We will always have your back, Clay." Naima punctuates her words with a firm squeeze of his arm. "You copy?"

Clay nods. "Yes ma'am," he murmurs quietly.

"Good. Now let's get back before Sonny eats all the stuffing." Naima slips her arm into his and together they make their way back down to the picnic tables.

Everyone is milling around and trying not to look like they were avidly watching the exchange between them. As soon as they are within a few yards of the tables, however, anxious heads snap in their direction. Clay would hate being the center of their scrutiny, but he can see the care and concern on their faces as they look at him. It's nearly overwhelming. As if reading his thoughts, Naima gives his hand a pat as she smiles up at him.

"I'm sorry for that," Clay offers quietly. "I ruined our game."

"It's not ruined, Clay," Adam tells him, tone broking no room for argument.

"Yeah, it's half time!" Jameelah chirps, bouncing excited on the bench. "Uncle Trent said the turkey is ready. It's time to eat!"

Her exuberance and cheer breaks any last tension remaining. A soft sigh slips free from Clay, his body finally relaxing.

"We're still gonna kick your butt, poster boy," Sonny drawls. "After pie."

Naima moves off first, not without one last reassuring pat of his arm though. Slowly everyone follows her lead, moving off to grab plates and claim spots at the tables. Trent pulls out a carving knife and is slicing into the turkey when Adam steps up to Clay, passing him a beer in silence. For a moment, they stand there taking in the scene before them as Brian battles with Sonny over the drumstick while Brock and Mikey wrestle with the wishbone.

Adam's hand settles softly on Clay's shoulder. He's got a soft look on his face when Clay glances at him. Like Naima's look, it radiates pride and a fatherly kind of love that Clay's only ever dreamed of.

"You know it's not just blood that makes you a family, Clay," he states softly. "It's loyalty and compassion. It's about having each other's back and forgiveness. It's about love and an unbreakable bond. And let me tell you kid, you've got all that and more right here."

Clay glances back over his team again, watching more of their shenanigans unfold and feeling nothing but a warmth growing in his chest. He knows Adam is right. Bravo is his family, filling in the shoes that his mother couldn't fill and his father wouldn't. And while it might not be the picture perfect day he had set in his mind, it was still a day full of light and laughter and love. It is everything he'd wanted his first real Thanksgiving to be.

* * *

Thank you to sailormade for fueling my fire by talking smack about Ash with me to get me going. Love ya babe!


End file.
